


blooming

by g0ldrush



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: AU, F/F, kuvira sets korra and asami up on a blind date, smut but not graphic at all, the three of them are teachers, very sweet beginnings of love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:41:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28361859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/g0ldrush/pseuds/g0ldrush
Summary: “You’re just very nice to look at and I am very gay.” Asami emphasises.Her phrasing is stupid, funny, but Korra understands it because the sentiment is mutual. Looking at Asami is like looking at sunshine, it is like being surrounded by the light of golden hour. It’s as if Asami is a summer's day and Korra never wants to escape the heat again.
Relationships: Korra/Asami Sato
Comments: 17
Kudos: 268





	blooming

**Author's Note:**

> hello everyone! i wrote this one shot because i am currently very cold and yearning for spring loool :) enjoy!

It’s springtime.

March has been and gone, left behind its footprint of longer days and warmer nights. April makes itself present through lilac and orange sunsets that cast shadows throughout houses across the town. Thick coats become lighter jackets and car windows get rolled down for the first time in months.

All of it makes Asami smile.

She’s able to pad her bare feet across the wooden floors of her bedroom in the mornings without feeling the chill travel up her legs. It means that she can take pleasure in the way each board creaks, and the minutes wait it takes for her coffee to brew.

Her hands part her curtains to beams of light and the sound of chirping birds. If she looks closely enough with her glasses then she’s able to see robins hopping along the branches of a cherry blossom in her front yard, the buds having become pink and peach and cream.

There’s a light misting of dew coating the grass and she lets her breath fog up the pane of her window. She lifts her coffee mug to her lips and in turn steams up her glasses too. Asami doesn’t have the heart to huff about it; she takes them off, places them on her nightstand.

The lenses face downwards but she doesn’t care.

There are freckles blooming in constellations on her cheeks and she lets the sun kiss at them.

*****

It’s springtime.

March has been and gone, left behind a sense of burning that’s looming low. April makes itself present in days that drone on for a second too long and sunsets that turn to smoke. Comforting sweaters have to transition to thinner shirts and unsettling air meets speckled skin for the first time in months.

All of it makes Korra uneasy.

The carpeted floor of her bedroom beneath her feet feels too warm in the mornings. It’s a fraction too bright when she cracks open her curtains and she’s forced to squint her eyes. She rubs at them with her knuckles and recoils at the sound of each chirp that the birds on her balcony give.

There’s no frost on her window pane and it’s far from familiar. She makes herself a mug of tea and curses into the empty room when she spills some onto the floor. It’s highlighted by the rays of light blasting from behind the clouds like bullets and she misses the dark of winter.

Korra perches on her couch, places the scalding mug down onto the coffee table.

It’ll leave behind a stain but she doesn’t care.

The ends of her hair are becoming lighter with each day that passes and she wants to cut them off.

*****

Asami has her second cup of coffee of the day in a cafe down the street.

The coffee shop is quaint, but offers a familiar warmth. Asami orders a latte and a muffin, tucks herself into a far corner. Her body is engulfed by a tan leather armchair and she places her tote bag at her feet. There’s a smudge of green paint streaked up the side and Asami pictures vines growing from it as she waits.

Waits longer.

She flips through a book that’s been left on one of the side tables but doesn’t have the concentration to absorb them. Asami feels giddy with an excitement that she doesn’t understand the root of. There’s coffee thrumming in her blood and she taps her nails against the china of her mug.

Her phone vibrates in her pocket.

**Kuvira: Yes I’m running late**

**Kuvira: I’m around the corner**

**Kuvira: Be there soon**

Asami lets out a quiet laugh. The cafe is loud enough that nobody hears her. Asami’s eyes roll as she places her phone back into her pocket, relaxes further into her seat. Kuvira doesn’t need a response; Asami’s able to count on one hand how many times Kuvira has been on time to anything.

And still have fingers left over.

It’s undoubtedly a Kuvira thing and she’d be lying through her teeth if she said it wasn’t endearing, sometimes. It’s why she doesn’t mind waiting another minute, or two, for Kuvira to be waving excitedly at her from across the room.

She orders herself an espresso, and Asami catches the barista telling her that she’ll bring it over to their table. Kuvira smiles gratefully and Asami beckons her with a grin. Asami knows that it’s been mere days since they last saw each other but bounds gladly into Kuvira’s arms.

Kuvira chuckles and people do hear them, then.

“Salami!” Kuvira jokes. “It’s been years.” She winks.

Asami snickers as she pulls away.

“Hilarious, truly.”

Asami’s mid way through her third latte and Kuvira has necked back a further four espressos. They joke that Kuvira’s not going to be able to sleep for a week and the atmosphere is light, airy. Asami drains the dregs of her coffee and licks at her top lip; the excitement has begun to ebb away but there’s still mischief building in Kuvira’s eyes.

“You’re looking at me funny.” Asami notes.

“Am I?”

“Yes,” Asami nods. “Really funny.”

Kuvira acts nonchalant.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She sings.

Asami thinks that there’s a reason Kuvira isn’t an actress. She tells her as much and Kuvira laughs. Asami arches an eyebrow, leans forward in her seat. Kuvira mirrors her and props her elbows on the arms of the chair, crosses one leg over the other with confidence.

“How long have you been single for again?” Kuvira blurts.

And no, definitely not.

“Oh no, we are not doing this.” Asami shakes her head.

It’s not something that she’s keen on discussing.

Again.

She knows that Kuvira has her best intentions at heart, but she’s suffered through enough first dates that Kuvira’s set up on her behalf to be skeptical. Nothing has ever come from them with the exception of a free drink here and there, and the prospect of Kuvira suggesting another is -

\- Worrying.

Kuvira simply stares her down and Asami knows that she’s going to pry an answer from her.

“I don’t know,” Asami tries.

“Liar.” Kuvira counters.

Asami knows that she’s transparent. Kuvira sees through her like she’s a panel of glass and doesn’t hide the smirk on her face. She twirls a strand of hair around her finger and lets it drop into a ringlet; Asami can only hope that she’ll let the topic of conversation go as quickly.

“Rude. Six months I think?” Asami scoffs.

It’s been six months and one week, but she’s not going to allow Kuvira to find out.

Six months and one week of Kuvira coercing her into getting back out there.

Six months and one week of sleeping alone and buying herself flowers because she can. Poppies are her favorite and she displays them in a vase on her bedroom windowsill so that she’s able to see them in the corner of her eye when she’s making herself come better than any partner or date that she’s ever had.

Asami knows what’s coming; Kuvira will try and set her up with someone once more. Asami wants to say no but her body is warm, and the sun is shining brighter outside than it has since fall. Her skin is free from goosebumps and she has the sleeves of her shirt rolled up. There’s a sense of hope in the air and Asami is happy, optimistic.

And so she agrees.

*****

Korra doesn’t have any plans for the day.

It’s already past noon, and she’s spent the morning drawing up lesson plans for her students. It doesn’t matter that it’s the middle of spring break. She’s drank her way through too many cups of herbal tea in an attempt to feel something but all that she feels is disgustingly warm.

The windows of her living room are constantly assaulted by the sun.

She feels like a wilting stem cornered in a greenhouse and she knows that drinking scalding tea does nothing to help. It burns all the way down to her stomach and settles unpleasantly; her palms feel clammy as she sets her laptop down and she begins to dread the months that are to come.

May, June, July.

August.

Because Korra’s never disliked summer before, has never so much as found anything bad about it.

But something feels off.

Her house feels too big, too empty. She feels swamped in the space that she’s built over the years, drowned out by the heat that she hasn’t felt since fall. It reminds her of how comfortable her childhood days in Alaska were and she wishes she could go back.

Korra brews another cup of tea despite herself and stares down her phone like it’s personally offended her. She decides that maybe it has when it vibrates, three times, and the screen illuminates like a warning.

**Kuvira: Hey babe**

**Kuvira: Can I call you?**

**Kuvira: I have a proposition**

It’s laughable, almost.

Korra’s known Kuvira since one of her first district teacher conferences. Kuvira had been babbling to herself about the lack of variety at the buffet table and Korra had agreed.

They’d spent the weekend chuckling between themselves in the back row of the hall and Korra had gone back to teaching classes the following Monday with nothing gained but a friend. Kuvira had texted her that evening about a lunch catch up the following week and things had become concrete.

It’s been ten years and countless lunches since then but the sentiment remains the same.

Except for when Korra knows that Kuvira has other plans.

**Korra: If you’re going to set me up on another date then the answer is no**

She types the message with a snicker, and it isn’t lost on her that it’s the first time she’s cracked a smile all day. It feels like the smallest weight lifted and she smiles softly to herself. Her feet walk her back towards the couch and her hand clutches the mug that’s burning her skin.

**Kuvira: Can I call you or not?**

Korra knows that a response from her isn’t going to stop Kuvira.

Her phone rings predictably and she picks up on the second dial.

“Korra!” Korra sets her phone to speaker.

“Hey girl,” Korra sighs.

She lays back on her couch, flings her legs up onto the arm rest. She tucks her arm beneath her head and props her phone on her stomach. Kuvira’s voice is distorted in her ears so she twists, turns until she’s comfortable. She’s already rambling about ideas and what if’s but they go in one ear and out of the other.

“What?” Korra asks. “Say that again?”

Kuvira groans, but it’s laced with laughter.

“You’re not listening to a word I’m saying, are you?”

“Absolutely not,” Korra grins.

Kuvira groans once more.

“Why doesn’t anybody ever trust me?” She jokes. “I have so many good ideas and nobody cares”

It’s dramatic and both know it, but it’s funny. They’re able to giggle freely and it distracts Korra from the hollow feeling in her bones. Kuvira starts talking once more and Korra is listening, this time.

“Date,” Kuvira states bluntly. “Will you go on one?”

And Korra will do anything to keep the peace.

She hums lowly, acknowledges that one more date added to the growing list of failed ones that Kuvira’s already set her up on won’t hurt. She’ll get a drink from it, or a meal if she’s lucky, and it’ll be fine.

It’ll be nice.

“As long as it’s not with you, honey.”

*****

**Asami: Can I get some more info on this date?**

**Asami: What does she do???**

**Asami: Where am I even meeting her?**

**Asami: And also**

**Asami: Why the fuck did I agree to this**

**Asami: AGAIN**

**Asami: Kuvira!! I have nothing to wear**

**Kuvira: She’s a teacher at Oak High, you’re meeting her at Del Posto, and you agreed because you love me**

**Kuvira: And wear something hot, this girl is cute**

**Kuvira: Table is booked for 8pm!**

*****

**Korra: Promise me something?**

**Kuvira: Depends what**

**Korra: If this date is bad then you have to come over and drink all of the alcohol in my house with me**

**Kuvira: Deal**

**Kuvira: Can’t wait to be sober tonight**

*****

Asami makes a point of being early.

It’s ten minutes before she’s due to meet her date and the sky is flourishing in pinks and oranges as she rounds the corner. The restaurant is within her sight and the cooling breeze floats easily around her ankles. She’s wearing a red dress that clings to her hips, cuts off at her knees, and a pair of heels that she knows she’s going to regret by the end of the night.

If it lasts that long.

Her hands are pushing open the door to the restaurant and she exhales a nervous breath; there’s something nagging pleasantly in her gut and she prays to unknown gods that Kuvira is right this time.

*****

Korra makes a point of being early.

She’s sat inside the restaurant a full fifteen minutes before eight. A waitress points her to a table that’s directly in line of sight from the door and she thanks her with a polite smile. The same waitress pours her a glass of wine and Korra’s mind begins to swirl with the current of it.

Because she doesn’t know who to look out for, doesn’t know how to break the ice when her blind date becomes real. She doesn’t know why Kuvira had been so vague and -

\- Doesn’t understand the excitement that’s weighing heavy on her chest.

*****

There’s soft music playing.

Asami enters the restaurant with a spring in her step.

Her eyes scan the room and it takes seconds.

Korra.

*****

“Asami?”

it’s not what Korra had been expecting.

Asami isn’t what Korra had been expecting.

She trails her eyes across the woman who’s a vision in red. It’s a beautiful red and Asami has an even more beautiful smile upon her face. Korra remains cautious but knows that Asami is growing uncomfortable; she purses her glossy lips and arches an eyebrow, places her hands on the back of the chair that’s meant for her.

Maybe.

“Please tell me Kuvira set you up too or this is about to be a really awkward conversation.” Asami laughs.

Korra has to swallow her nerves.

“I, uh,” She stutters. “Yeah, yeah, she did.” Korra confirms.

Asami nods her head slowly, twiddles her fingers against the leather of the chair.

“Ok,” Asami’s smile is tentative.

But then she’s cursing quietly.

“Fuck.” She laughs.

Asami shifts her weight from one foot to the other, diverts her gaze. There’s a tension between them that fizzles with the candle that’s lit in the middle of the table. It’s burning through Korra but she can’t look away from Asami; Asami who she doesn’t know outside of teacher conferences and Asami who’s channeling a fleeting glance back towards her.

“We don’t have to do this,” Korra prefaces. -I’m sorry if this is too weird or,” She doesn’t get to finish.

Asami is shaking her head. She pulls the chair out from underneath the table, lets her bag slip off of her shoulder. It drops to the floor with a soft clink and Asami sits just as delicately. She looks up towards Korra from beneath heavy lashes and Korra can feel the hairs on the back of her neck standing to attention.

“We don’t have to make it weird, right?” Asami proposes.

Korra isn’t so sure.

“Right.”

Asami gives her an encouraging smile.

“Come on,” Asami coaxes. “We get a night out and Kuvira gets to shut up for three seconds, it’ll be fine.” She jokes.

And Korra doesn’t know whether she believes her.

Because there’s a heat in the pit of her stomach and she doesn’t mind it, for once.

Asami’s already flicking through the menu, eyes trailing over the list of pasta dishes, and Korra doesn’t know how she’s so calm. Korra takes a breath, pulls herself back to the music in the room and the lights that are dim; she decides that she’ll stay and nods her head slowly.

Even if only to get Kuvira to shut up for three seconds.

“It’ll be fine, yeah, sure.” Korra echos.

Asami winks at her then, and when the waitress takes their orders minutes later, Korra stutters out a dish that she doesn’t even like.

*****

It doesn’t take long.

They laugh.

They click.

And it’s easier than Asami thought it would be.

Korra’s frown drains along with her wine glass and Asami thinks that Kuvira had a point, maybe. Asami’s cheeks are flushed as pink as her rosé and Korra’s giggling freely, laughing along to an anecdote about something. Asami doesn’t know what; she’s been rambling and Korra has been listening and their glasses are near empty.

“Ugh,” Korra grunts. “Can I make a confession?” She grimaces.

Asami has to tear her eyes away from the way that her gold earrings glint against her cheeks, the way that the curl of her hair falls around her shoulders. Korra’s leant slightly over the table like there’s a secret teetering on her lips and Asami nods excitedly, smirks back at her.

Korra pushes her fork around her plate, sighs dramatically.

“I fucking hate salmon.” She admits.

Asami could have guessed.

Korra’s avoided the salmon like it’s caused her personal harm, and has skirted around it in order to get to the potatoes, asparagus. It’s sat untouched on the edge of her plate, and Asami finds herself scowling at it. Her body is warm with the alcohol and she looks back up to Korra with a lopsided grin.

“You ordered salmon because you don’t like salmon?” Asami checks.

Korra groans, slouches in her chair.

“I panicked!” She whines.

“Oh, baby.” Asami snickers.

“Don’t do that.” Korra’s voice is high.

Asami arches her eyebrow, presses her ankle against Korra’s beneath the table. Korra doesn’t flinch away from the contact and Asami takes it as a good sign. She reaches across the table and taps at Korra’s wrist once.

Twice.

“Don’t do what?” Asami beams.

Korra’s blush only intensifies.

“Never mind,” Korra chuckles. “Do you want to get out of here?”

Asami doesn’t think she’s ever said yes quite as quickly.

*****

**Korra: So**

**Korra: Maybe you were onto something**

**Kuvira: I know**

**Kuvira: Told you so**

*****

**Asami: Kuvira!!!**

**Asami: I have an update**

**Asami: I’ve had five glasses of wine and Korra is pretty**

**Kuvira: I know**

**Kuvira: Told you so**

*****

“My feet hurt.” Asami grumbles.

They’ve been walking for ten minutes, aimlessly.

Asami’s hand is intertwined with Korra’s and the sun has fully set behind them. The street lamps overhead paint Asami’s face in amber patterns and Korra wants to trail her fingers across them. Asami drops her head to rest on Korra’s shoulder and repeats herself.

“Korra,” She drawls. “My feet really hurt”.

Korra gives her hand a squeeze, nods her head in understanding.

“My place is around the corner?” Korra offers.

And Asami perks up instantly.

“Let’s go!”

*****

“Oh thank fuck for that.”

Asami kicks her shoes off before Korra closes the door behind them.

The hallway is dark, only illuminated by the headlights of cars that pass akin to lighting outside. Asami stumbles and Korra reaches for the light switch, bathes them in fluorescence. They both squint against it but they’re giggling still, Korra attempting to undo the straps of her own heels.

“Finally,” She sighs, letting them drop to the floor.

Asami leans against the wall, stretches out her toes.

“God,” Asami tugs at her dress. “Wish I’d worn something more comfortable”. She huffs.

Korra nods her head in agreement, because she gets it.

The dress she had chosen was uncomfortable at the beginning of the night and still is now. It itches at her skin and bunches awkwardly but it had seemed important, once.

She struggles to remember why when Asami is tugging on her arm once more, pulling Korra flush against her.

Korra lets out a breath of laughter, walks her fingers across Asami’s hip and to the small of her back when Asami offers a minute nod; they’re stood in the corner of Korra’s hallway at eleven on a Wednesday and it’s still as bizarre as it was three hours earlier.

Neither are complaining.

“I can lend you a shirt if you want to get out of this dress?”

*****

Korra riffles through her chest of drawers, finding a plaid shirt that Asami accepts eagerly.

She fists her hands into it, teeters on her feet as Korra directs her to the bathroom. It takes her minutes to change and in that time Korra swaps her dress for a pair of sleep shorts and a hoodie, tells Asami that she’ll be in the kitchen.

Korra is in there, true to her word, and when Asami emerges from the bathroom she basks in the way that Korra’s eyes grow hooded, trailing across her frame. She’s left the top buttons of the shirt undone and it cuts off at her upper thigh. Her feet are bare but the carpet beneath them is warm.

Everything is warm.

“You look cute,” Korra grins.

And Asami’s unable to quell her blush, mumbles a quiet thank you.

There’s a bottle of wine sat on the kitchen counter top and she nods towards it.

“More wine?” She questions.

Korra brings two mugs, hand painted in rainbows.

“If you ‘wanna.”

Asami does.

So she tells her.

*****

Korra’s balcony faces west, and the stars twinkle like fireflies.

Asami is already curled up on her bench and Korra folds her legs to join her. She drapes a knitted blanket around the both of them and passes off both mugs. They fill them with shaking hands and cheers them together with a clank. It echoes in the alcove but Asami’s curling up against her and it’s all that matters.

Korra places a hand on Asami’s knee, and Asami accepts the invitation, spreads her legs out across Korra’s lap. They sip from their mugs, bask in the quiet. The only sounds come from Asami’s heavy breathing and the occasional car that passes fleetingly; Korra doesn’t miss the way Asami blinks up at her when she thinks she isn’t looking and has to bite at the insides of her cheeks to stop her grin from growing.

“Very subtle,” Korra smirks.

Asami splutters, clears her throat.

Her pupils are blown and Korra thinks that she could drown happily in the depths of them.

“Wasn’t trying to be subtle,” Asami laughs.

“Coulda’ fooled me.”

“Hey!”

Asami shifts, pokes at Korra’s ribs until she’s squealing, giggling. Korra squirms away from her touch but it’s futile, impossible. She pleads, places her near empty mug onto the small table next to them as Asami loops her arms around her waist, pulls her closer.

Closer still.

“You’re just very nice to look at and I am very gay.” Asami emphasises.

Her phrasing is stupid, funny, but Korra understands it because the sentiment is mutual. Looking at Asami is like looking at sunshine, it is like being surrounded by the light of golden hour. It’s as if Asami is a summer's day and Korra never wants to escape the heat again.

Asami’s gaze is burning through her and she lets it, gladly.

*****

Their mugs are empty and Korra’s phone is ringing.

Korra doesn’t hold back her groan.

Asami rolls her eyes with a smile, mumbles a faint typical under her breath. Korra swats her hand feebly but can’t help but laugh along. Her phone continues ringing and she fishes it out of the pocket of her hoodie with a sigh. There are no cars passing on the street and the sound of Asami gulping reverberates around them.

“Who is it?” Asami voices.

Soft and tender and curious.

“Who do you think?” Korra grins.

She turns her phone screen towards Asami, and Asami laughs at the sight of Kuvira’s contact picture. It’s blurry in quality but the content is clear. Kuvira is holding a half empty bottle of beer and is grinning at the camera like she’s never been happier. Asami nods towards it, encouraging Korra with a simper.

“Answer it.” She prods.

“Really?”

“Answer it.” Asami repeats.

Korra looks skeptical but Asami is giddy, tipsy on the wine and the feeling of Korra’s skin pressed against her own. The phone is still ringing and Korra answers before it cuts off. Kuvira greets her with a cheer and any plan Asami had had of staying quiet vanishes.

“Oh my god, Korra!” Kuvira howls. “Was that Asami? Are you with Asami?!”

And Asami is just as excited.

“I’m with Asami.” Korra confirms.

She does so with a smile that’s bright, kind. Asami thinks that it could single handedly light up the balcony, or the street below them, and she combs her fingers through a section of Korra’s hair. The curl that it held at the beginning of the night have begun to drop but Asami doesn’t care.

“Well,” Kuvira starts. “Let it be known that I’m a goddamn genius”.

*****

It gets to one in the morning and neither are tired.

They’ve long since drank their way through the mugs of wine and are left chuckling amongst themselves, hands linked and legs intertwined. Korra’s able to see Asami’s lipstick wearing around the edges and the creases in her eyeshadow if she looks close enough but it reminds her that Asami is real.

“You know,” Asami’s voice is teasing. “I told Kuvira I thought you were cute a while back.”

And Korra’s caught off guard.

“What? When?”She laughs.

Asami’s looking at her mischievously, has moved to rest her chin on her shoulder. Her hand has worked its way beneath Korra’s hoodie to rest on her stomach and Korra knows that Asami has to feel her muscles tensing. Asami’s confession has her blushing and there’s a flame ignited between them.

“A couple of months ago,” Asami says it like it’s casual. “We were at that out of state conference and Kuvira kept pointing people out to me.” She laughs.

“And you said I was cute?” Korra sings.

Asami’s nod is microscopic.

Yet it’s certain.

She lifts her chin up off of Korra’s shoulder, cups Korra’s cheek with the palm of her hand. Her thumb strokes across her cheekbone and Korra can’t help but lean into it. There’s a softness that’s playful, enticing, and Korra doesn’t want it to stop.

“You are cute!” Asami giggles.

Korra places her own palm atop of Asami’s.

“And you couldn’t have told me that three months ago?” Korra keeps her tone joking.

Because she knows that she probably, definitely couldn’t have. They’d never spoken for more than a handful of minutes back then and Korra had been too focused on note taking and swapping ideas to notice the flecks of green in Asami’s eyes, her hair like silk.

Or the way Asami had been looking at her.

“I’m telling you now.”

*****

Korra’s lips are on hers and it feels good.

Feels right.

“Fuck.”

Her arms are looped securely around Asami’s waist, and Asami’s manoeuvred herself to straddle Korra’s thighs. The wood of the bench beneath her knees is hard but Korra’s touches are soft and Asami thinks she could stay there for hours.

She thinks that she might when Korra deepens the kiss, pulls Asami in like a magnet until it’s slow, sensual.

Korra’s hands travel up the outsides of her thighs, brush her waist and come to land on her hips. The fabric of the shirt that she’s wearing bunches beneath Korra’s touch and it makes her long for her fingertips to be pressing against bare skin. Asami whines into Korra’s mouth and it’s too hot.

“Jesus.”

There’s a fire growing in Asami’s stomach.

Korra’s craning her neck in order to kiss her back with vigour, and Asami keeps whining for more. She’ll take all that Korra will give her, all that she has; light touches become desperate grasps and Korra’s hips are bucking beneath her own.

Asami winds her fingers in Korra’s hair. She tugs, tests the waters, but Korra’s already mewling. Her hands tighten on Asami’s waist before they’re climbing higher, pressing down on Asami’s shoulders. They’re both still cloaked in Korra’s knitted blanket and she uses it to her advantage.

She pulls on each side, and Asami lets her. They’re pressed flush against one another and Asami would be embarrassed about the need pouring from her akin to a fountain but not here, not with Korra.

Not now.

“Want you.” Asami breathes.

And she thinks that Korra understands.

“Bed?” Korra asks.

Bed.

“Yeah,” Asami giggles. “Let’s save the balcony sex for the second date”.

*****

Korra looks down at Asami, sprawled across her bed.

The shirt - Korra’s shirt - has slipped off of one shoulder, and Korra becomes unable to focus on anything apart from the skin that’s revealed. It’s soft, and Korra ghosts her touch across it, watches as Asami blinks slowly up at her with doe eyes.

Her lashes are heavy, and they brush against Korra’s cheek when she leans down, presses their lips together. Everything is hot, needy, and Asami’s hands have already travelled back beneath the fabric of Korra’s hoodie. Her nails scratch against the small of her back and Korra whines, breaking the kiss.

Asami looks sinful yet sweet, and Korra can’t believe that she ever thought about saying no to the date.

Saying no to Asami.

Because Asami is making her feel better than she has in a long time and it’s crazy.

“Korra,” Asami whimpers.

“Yes baby?”

Korra peppers kisses along Asami’s throat, trails them down to her exposed shoulder. She grazes her teeth against delicate collarbones, and then moves back towards Asami’s lips. She captures them with a serene smile and Asami hums into it, hooks her legs around Korra’s frame.

“I need you.” She whines.

Asami’s hair is disheveled and a swipe of lipstick is smudged down to her chin. Korra presses her thumb to it and leaves her mark in the shape of a fingerprint. Asami smirks at her like she knows what she’s doing but bucks her hips regardless.

“I know,” Korra soothes. “I know.”

So Korra kisses her again.

And keeps kissing her.

*****

They go slowly.

Asami lays back in a sea of teal pillows, let's Korra peel away her shirt.

Korra’s own hoodie has long since been discarded and they’re left in a barely there pair of lace panties and sleep shorts respectively. They stare at each other with an infatuation; Asami feels quietly adored beneath Korra’s gaze and is grateful for the dim lighting hiding her blush.

Kisses swarm her body and hands work to remove her panties. Korra tells her that she’s beautiful, whispers it in her ear, and Asami whispers it right back because Korra is.

Is beautiful.

Asami slips a hand beneath Korra’s shorts, gasps, and then they’re both touching each other, both breathing heavily. The air smells like sandalwood and sex and Asami closes her eyes, feels Korra resting her weight atop of her. She moans into Asami’s ear when Asami’s fingers touch her for the first time and Asami spreads her legs reflexively.

And they still go slowly.

Because they’re both growing tired, blissed out, despite being high on each other. The sun will rise in less than a handful of hours and Asami wants to see it with Korra. She presses her fingers harder, and they’re so in sync that Asami can feel her chest swelling.

Asami keeps her fingers moving and it’s all that it takes.

Korra comes quietly, but Asami lets out a choked off moan.

They pant into eachothers mouths, kissing until they’re too weak to think. Asami giggles airily and then Korra’s relaxing, allowing Asami to burrow into her side, hooking a leg across her waist. She rests her chin on Korra’s shoulder and looks up at her with a grin.

Korra battles to get out of her damp shorts and Asami helps her do it.

The room doesn’t cool like Asami has become used to on nights alone, because Korra is there. She curls an arm around Asami’s waist, places a kiss on her forehead. It feels like a promise and Asami dares to believe that it might be when Korra’s lips are parting, her eyes searching.

“Stay tonight?” Korra whispers.

Asami thinks that it’s a given.

*****

Korra’s alone in bed, but the room smells like toast.

It’s the following morning, and she glances at the clock on her bedside table.

The face reads a little after eleven and Korra stretches out her muscles that feel loose, rested. The sheets are rumpled next to her and she smiles as she hears clattering coming from the kitchen, spots Asami’s red dress folded neatly on her chest of drawers.

She drags herself out of bed begrudgingly, gets lost in the whirlwind of Asami’s vanilla perfume that swirls around her when she pulls back the sheets. It makes her heady but she’s unable to find it within herself to complain; she drapes a robe over her shoulders and pads to the kitchen, pausing at the sight of Asami.

Asami, who’s switched on Korra’s radio, has made herself at home.

She flits around Korra’s kitchen like it’s her own and has two plates of toast and two mugs of tea already brewing. She’s used the same rainbow cups from the night before and it’s a vision that makes Korra smile.

Really smile.

Because her home has never felt as warm and she likes it. It feels full and good and right and Asami has removed her makeup from the night before. Korra’s able to see the freckles dusting her cheeks for the first time and -

\- It’s as if spring is in bloom.

Korra clears her throat, walks her way through the kitchen. Asami’s grin is bright yet shy and Korra brushes at her hip. Asami loops her arms around Korra’s neck and gives her a kiss that tastes of butter.

“Do you want me to leave now?” Asami jokes.

Korra thinks about it, or pretends to. She knows what her response will be before it’s so much as left her lips and pulls Asami in closer.

“No.” She shakes her head.

She thinks that it’s the answer Asami had been hoping for.

“Ok,” Asami beams.

Her fingers thread through Korra’s hair and with it Asami weaves her way into Korra’s life.

“I’ll stay.”

*****

They spend the rest of the morning in bed.

Asami spends half of it between Korra’s thighs and Korra doesn’t argue about returning the favour. She has Asami coming against her fingers and it works.

They spend the day at the beach, toes in the water, and Korra doesn’t complain when she finds herself at Asami’s house that night.

Or the night after.

She doesn’t complain when it’s been six months, either, and she’s still waking up to the smell of tea and toast in the mornings.

And the feeling of Asami’s lips against her cheek.

  
  



End file.
